Andy the Acrobat | Page 9

farmer
shrewdly.
"Because I have done some damage up at the schoolhouse. I want to
pay for that, too. You will be satisfied with the security and the person
holding it, Mr. Dale. I will let you know all about it before ten o'clock
to-morrow morning."
Farmer Dale surveyed Andy with a long, curious stare, whistling softly
to himself. His hot temper was subdued, now that he saw a prospect of

payment for the burned hay.
"You talk straight off the reel, Wildwood," he said. "I believe you're
honest. Go on with your little arrangement, and let's see how it pans out.
I shan't make any move until after ten o'clock to-morrow morning."
"Thank you, Mr. Dale," said Andy. "I won't disappoint you."
Andy started to move away from the spot.
"Hold on," interrupted Dale. "Tell me how it happened."
Andy gave an unbiased account of the morning's occurrences.
"Ha! hum!" commented the farmer. "No end of scrapes because you're
a lively lad and can't help it. See here, Wildwood, do you know what I
would do if I were in your place?"
"No, what's that, Mr. Dale?" asked Andy.
"I'd join the show--yes, I would!" declared the farmer energetically. "I
tell you I believe circus is born in you, and you can't help it. You don't
have much of a life at home. You're not built for humdrum village life.
Get out; grow into something you fancy. No need being a scamp
because you're a rover. My brother was built your sort. They pinned
him down trying to make a doctor of him, and he ran away. He turned
up with a little fortune ten years later, a big-hearted, happy fellow. No
one particularly knew it, but he'd been with a traveling minstrel show
for those ten years. Now he's settled down, and I'd like to see a finer
man than Zeb Dale."
"Thank you," said Andy, "I'll think of what you say."
Farmer Dale jogged on his way. Andy faced towards Centreville. It
seemed as if something was pulling him along in that direction.

CHAPTER V

THE CIRCUS
At the first cross-roads a field wagon containing a farmer, his wife and
half-a-dozen children whirled into Andy Wildwood's view. A merry
juvenile chorus told Andy that they were bound for the circus.
"Trace loose, mister," he called out as he noticed the trailing strap.
"Whoa," ordered the driver, halting with a jolt, and Andy adjusted the
faulty harness and smiled back cheerily at an eager little fellow in the
wagon who inquired if he was going to the show, too.
"Jump in, youngster, if ours is your way," invited the farmer.
Andy promptly availed himself of the offer. He sat with his feet
dangling over the tailboard. The farther he got from Fairview the less
he thought of the manifold troubles and complications he was leaving
behind him there.
Andy did not intend to run away from home. He had business in view
which demanded his presence in Fairview the next day. He was,
however, resolved to go to Centreville. He would at least see the
outside of the circus, and could put on the time until evening.
It was only six miles from Fairview to Centreville, and they soon came
in sight of the county seat.
Andy caught more and more of the circus fever as they progressed. At
every branch road a new string of vehicles joined the procession. They
passed gay parties of ruralites on foot. Andy leaped down from the
wagon with a "Thank you" to his host, at the first sight of the mammoth
white tents over on the village common.
This was the second day of the circus at Centreville. It was scheduled
to remain one more day. Its coming was a great event for the town, and
the place was crowded with pleasure-seekers.
Andy reached the principal street just as the grand pageant went by. It

was a spectacle that dazzled him. The music, the glitter, the pomp, the
fair array of wild animals made him forget everything except that he
was a boy enjoying a rare moment of existence.
It was the inner life of the circus people, however, that attracted Andy.
It was his great ambition to be one of them. He was not content to
remain a spectator of the outside veneer of show life. He wanted to
know something of its practical side.
Andy did not dally around the ticket seller's booth, the side shows or
the crowded main entrance of the show.
Once, when a small circus had visited Fairview, he had gotten a free
pass by carrying buckets of water to the cook's tent.
He had now a vague hope that some such fortunate chance might turn
up on this new occasion.
Andy soon discovered, however, that the